


rest stop

by grains_of_saturn



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Community: fan_flashworks, Dubious Consent, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 18:44:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10668579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grains_of_saturn/pseuds/grains_of_saturn
Summary: Following the events at Altissia, Prompto knows that there is little he can do to raise Noctis's spirits; he tries, regardless.





	rest stop

**Author's Note:**

> For the fan_flashworks challenge prompt 'shoulder'.
> 
> Spoilers up to chapter 10 of the main game.

From the moment they stepped off the train at Cartanica, even the air itself felt different. They'd traversed desert regions previously, but there was a particular dry kind of heat that seemed to have risen up and settled into everything. That, in itself, was in stark contrast to the ice-capped mountains that were visible in the distance, but the presence of Shiva's corpse elsewhere amongst the snowfields was but one thing amongst many that had ravaged the Niflheim continent. The temperature wasn't as high as was common in Lestallum, but the weight of the heat still fell heavy.

 _Perhaps_ , Prompto thought, _that's nothing to do with the air quality_. The mission was the same as it had been when they'd been on the other side of the ocean - locate the Royal Tombs, find the Royal Arms within them. Supposedly a Royal Tomb lay close to the station, which was a thing that, that morning, had still felt convenient. The fact of the convenience hadn't changed, but Prompto couldn't deny that it was some kind of relief to step off of the train, even given the dusty landscape that they found themselves waiting in. And there was no reason to wait and many reasons to press on, Prompto knew that. Leant against the handrail and staring out towards the quarry that marked their destination, Prompto knew that time was of the essence.

He hated the relief he'd felt as Gladiolus had brusquely stated his intention to go to the station's dining car, guiding Ignis as he went. He hated even more that he'd made his own small departure - he'd stretched his arms as they'd stood on the platform, said something about how good it felt to be able to walk after the hours spent on the train, and then he'd just _walked_. He'd caught Noctis's line of sight, back then. He'd offered a smile; it hadn't been returned, but he hadn't expected it to be. Even on his lips, it felt too enthusiastic. The air was heavy because the group was otherwise silent, and by making the excuse to himself that he was scoping out their target, he was able to step away from that suffocating pressure.

There wasn't much to smile about, of course. The aftermath of Leviathan's rampage had been difficult to deal with before Noctis had woken up, let alone afterward; they had to continue on because there was nothing else for them to do, and Prompto had felt helpless as he'd seen Noctis withdraw into himself. Rationally, he knew that likely another sort of helplessness - aimless and frustrated, from the enormity of Lunafreya's death to the immediate consequences of Ignis's injury - but that didn't make it any easier to deal with. All he really knew how to do was to keep the mood of the group up, chatting and joking, but... not like _this_. Prompto felt selfish for feeling useless, because what was _that_ in comparison to all that had happened?!... It felt like a lifetime ago that he'd confided his feelings on the matter to Noctis, close to the start of their journey, but Prompto wasn't sure that those had changed. There was nothing he could say or do to bring the group together, to make everybody feel better; both Noctis and Gladiolus had raised their defenses to near-impenetrable levels, lowering them only to snipe at one another. Ignis was--... not as closed off as those two were, but Prompto still felt very aware of not knowing how to act around him, and feeling terrible for it. All he wanted to do was to help, but Ignis seemed reluctant to accept that help, and what more was there for him to offer? What else was it possible for him to do?

He took a deep breath, steadying himself against the rail. For the immediate moment, he was alone, and so he didn't have to worry about any of that. Probably they would depart for the Royal Tomb before sundown (and Prompto wasn't sure if it was his imagination that that seemed to fall sooner with each passing day--), but for now, he had some small space to breathe. Part of him wondered about approaching Noctis, while Gladiolus and Ignis were busy by themselves, but he still didn't know what to say even if he were to do so.

It was so long ago now, but it was hard not to think of when they'd first struck up a friendship - Noctis sheltered through his upbringing, Prompto through social isolation, both of them navigating the sometimes-choppy waters of friendship together for the first time. Prompto recalled feeling very aware of thoughts such as _but what do friends do? How do I act like a friend should? Is this how friends behave?_ Even now, those thoughts still brought up needless suggestion. _You need to be there for him! A shoulder to cry on, someone to talk to! Just ask him how he's feeling, and try to help him!_... Those things seemed sensible, but there was no tell as to whether Noctis would be receptive to any of it. And Prompto had tried, up to that point, but nothing seemed to work - and why would it? No amount of trying to talk it out would bring Lunafreya back. Traveling to see her had been the whole point of their journey from the beginning, and now--...

There were still Royal Tombs to visit, though. Royal Arms to collect. The retrieval of the Crystal. The promise of facing up against the Niflheim Empire, which was responsible for _all of this_. Prompto wanted to believe that, in order to achieve those things, the group would be able to mend its fractures somehow, but everything was too raw and overwhelming in the present moment. Everything felt so much more serious; that wasn't to say that they hadn't been personally driven by watching the Imperial ships fly overhead towards Insomnia, but that--... it was almost possible to believe that it wasn't real, while they kept their mind to other things. As if it were some sort of terrible dream, and that they'd all be able to return after this, like nothing had happened. Even with the knowledge of what that attack had meant, the plan had seemed so much more straightforward before they'd made their way to Altissia. Like there was still hope, like there was still something to be done. And that didn't mean that there wasn't still hope, but a lot of it sat squarely on Noctis's shoulders, and--... Prompto knew better than to say _maybe it's too much?_ to any of them, but he couldn't help feeling it. He believed in Noctis, because of course he did, but for the extent that Noctis kept his feelings quiet, the effect that was having on him felt broadcast all the more.

But what else could be done? In any other situation, Prompto would have looked towards Gladiolus and Ignis for guidance. There had been similar instances during their youth, during which Noctis had responded to the pressure of his duties by withdrawing, and Prompto hadn't known how to react to that - but there had been other ways to approach the situation, back then. Prompto had felt useless because he knew just how little he knew of Noctis's royal demands, but even then it had been like being raised within a bubble. The threat of _becoming king_ was still only a theoretical, because King Regis was still--. A lot of possibilities threatened, but those concerns seemed as far away as the horizon. _Someday_.

They'd come too far now to stop, and Prompto knew that the four of them were determined to see this through to the end. They'd get there. They'd make it. Taking a break at this station was just a drop of water in the ocean; maybe a little time spent separate would have Noctis and Gladiolus reunite with cooler heads, and a firm eye on the purpose of them being here. Feelings had boiled over during the train journey, but... sometimes that just happened. People got angry, said things in haste - being cooped up like that likely hadn't helped, either. Give them all their own space, and they'd come back together in time.

"... Hey."

Prompto felt a jolt of nervousness on hearing Noctis address him, but there was no anger there. More to the point, he was still alone, which felt like it made things easier. "... Hey!" He offered up a rueful smile. "So, are we... ready to go?"

"I was... just thinking we should maybe get some rest, honestly." Noctis glanced up towards the sky. "Seems to be getting kind of dark already. Still early, though... but, you know. Probably better to head there first thing. Listening to the people around here, it seems like the place has been overrun by the local wildlife... and you know what that means."

"We won't be getting there without a fight?"

"Right."

"So just like all the other Royal Tombs, then?" Prompto brought up his fist and clenched it, trying to seem confident. "We took care of the others, we'll take care of this one. Those ancestors of yours really liked putting their tombs in these monster-friendly places, huh?" (Noctis responded with a sound that could almost have been amusement.) "So, uh... have you--... told the others? That we're gonna be staying overnight?"

"... Not yet." Noctis leant against the handrail. "Thought maybe if I waited long enough it'd be kind of obvious. You've not seen them?"

"Not since we got off the train."

"Mm... well, I'm gonna go on ahead. It's still early, but... I just want to lie down for a bit."

"Oh, uh--... right. Uh--..." Prompto felt as if there was more he should have been saying, but none of it came to mind in that moment. Noctis didn't add anything further as he pushed away from the rail, and walked back towards the stationary carriages; Prompto watched him as he went, only realizing moments later that he was clearly in no obvious rush to tell Gladiolus and Ignis of where he was going. There was an uncertain part of Prompto that wondered if Noctis had only mentioned his intentions in the hope that _someone else_ might make that report - he looked towards where he knew the diner carriage to be, feeling reluctant. Regardless of who mentioned it, Prompto knew that Gladiolus would likely disagree with the idea; maybe Noctis was right, in that his actions would say as much as needed to be said, _but maybe I should say something anyway?_

Torn by indecision, Prompto remained in place.

 

\-----

 

Going to the diner carriage would likely have been the most sensible thing to do. Tell Ignis and Gladiolus of the current state of affairs, even if they weren't ideal. Despite that, Prompto had found himself standing outside of the closed compartment door, working up the courage to knock. Currently found himself on his knees in front of where Noctis sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers pressed to the smooth flesh of Noctis's inner thighs and tonguing his freed erection as if _that_ might serve as any distraction to the situation.

Noctis had one hand against the curve of Prompto's neck, and would occasionally signal feeling through a shuddering breath, or a clutch against the fabric of Prompto's tanktop. None of those small gestures went unnoticed, each one serving as a suggestion that maybe, just _maybe, this isn't completely terrible?_

It had been so long since they'd done anything like this. Back during their schooldays, it was easy to get caught up in the whirlwind of _first love_ \- and easy to be so short-sighted as to think that just maybe, it could be _forever_. They'd sought each other's bodies back then, nervous exploration feeling so innocent in retrospect. It couldn't last, of course; it had felt so important at the time, but there were more important things. Always more important things. As a member of the royal family, no decision could be made in a vacuum; Prompto suspected that few who dreamt of princes had really entertained the actual reality of such a thing. Being a prince meant following the path laid out by those who were elder, those who were wiser. Being king meant putting the kingdom first, above all else. The first flush of adolescent desire had felt like the world, back then, but the world itself was so much bigger than that and that alone.

And so there was little else Prompto could think to do but offer this, now. Noctis hadn't responded on Prompto entering the compartment, or on closing - locking - the door behind him. Hadn't said anything to a soft whisper of his name, or to the approach, or the first touch.

" _Do you think--... this might help...?_ " (He'd given no indication that it might, but no objection, either.)

It felt so simple, compared to everything else since they'd arrived. " _You don't need to do anything,_ " Prompto had said. " _You don't need to say anything._ " Avoiding speech meant avoiding argument, meant avoiding those words said only to fill the silence, to try to communicate some sense of _being okay_ despite them both knowing that that wasn't the case, that it _couldn't_ be. Maybe this was just one thing in a long list of things that wouldn't help, but Noctis still trembled under Prompto's touch, still proved responsive to intimate contact. Prompto felt very aware of each small sound that Noctis made, still surprised at how familiar it all seemed despite himself. Even after years passing, some things didn't change - and Noctis drew one hand to his mouth as the sensations intensified, seemingly knowing as much as Prompto did that the lock on the door was only enough to provide them with momentary advanced warning. If Gladiolus and Ignis arrived to find the door locked, they'd only expect it to be opened in response... but they hadn't approached, not yet. It was still early. This didn't need to be a lengthy process; Prompto's own arousal pressed meaninglessly against the trappings of his clothing, but that didn't matter. It was impossible to be in this situation and not feel _something_ for it - those years spent dearly in love took care of that - but it wasn't important, either.

He swallowed when Noctis came, then leant back in his kneel with a shy smile, knowing his uncertainty was obvious in his eyes. That didn't matter; Noctis had his head bowed and to the side, pointedly not matching Prompto's line of sight. His breathing was still erratic, but distraction could only work for so long and now that silence between them was _awkward_. Prompto dropped his gaze to the dusty floor before putting a hand to the edge of the mattress to help himself to a standing position, knowing how false his smile seemed.

"Well, I'll just--... leave you to it. You said you wanted to lie down, right? Sorry for disturbing you."

"Prompto, wait--."

Prompto did so, on finding his movement prevented by a hand at his shoulder once more, this time implying that he should stay in place. He looked up, then; it was the smallest thing, but it also felt like the most decisive that Prompto had seen Noctis be in some number of weeks. Noctis still wouldn't look at him, though. Not as he moved from the bed, pushing his lower clothing away from where it had been gathered at his ankles. Not as he moved himself from the bed, guiding Prompto down to lie against the floor; not as he fumbled against the zip and fabric beneath him, nor as he did as much as he could to prepare himself before lowering himself down against Prompto's still-straining erection. Those movements were swift and sudden enough that Prompto found himself surprised, leant back against one elbow and reaching out with his other hand, as if that would be enough to stop the proceedings.

"N-Noct--... you don't--..." (It was too soon, and Noctis was still visibly soft. He gasped sharply on starting to move himself in rhythm against Prompto's body, but it wasn't clear if that was through pleasure _or_ \--.) Prompto's own voice came haltingly, his body feeling out of step with his mind. There was nothing about being enveloped in the warmth of Noctis's body that didn't feel good in itself, but for all that his actions had been decisive, he still kept his head down and away from Prompto's widened eyes. "You don't--... have to do this--..."

The only response that caused was a breath of laughter from Noctis, a bitter smile accompanying it. "Does it feel good?"

"Uh--... _hh_ \--...?"

Noctis looked up then, finally meeting Prompto's gaze, his eyes as cold as his body was warm. He kept that smile as he ran his fingers beneath Prompto's tanktop, pressing down against the bare flesh there as he continued his movements. "Do you think it feels good?"

"I, I--..."

"What were you gonna do after this... huh...? Just--... _nn_ \--... just walk away, still hard...?" (Prompto's hands went to Noctis's wrists on the feeling of fingernails digging just that bit too deeply against his skin.) "You think I want that? I don't--... _ah_ \--... I don't want that..."

The conflicting thoughts in Prompto's mind were enough to be overwhelming, and he didn't really know what to do about any of them. Physically, those movements were as addictive as they'd ever been; however, he couldn't shake the misgiving in the pit of his stomach that _maybe this wasn't a good idea after all_ ; the way that Noctis could still _laugh_ during this - whatever _this_ was - only amplified that feeling. He knew that look, too; a sharpness in his eyes that underlined every tired and irritable comment given to Gladiolus since they'd set off from Altissia. _But this isn't like that, right? We're not arguing, so why--...?_

"Noct--..." Prompto's thoughts were racing, only able to land on the most basic motivation he'd had. "I just--... thought--... it might help..."

"Yeah?" Noctis brought one hand back between his legs, touching himself in a languid fashion. "Does this help? Is this helping?"

It still _felt_ good, but that seemed like the wrong answer to the question. Prompto wasn't really sure what the question was, anymore. The sight of Noctis, riding his lap and touching himself erect with something like a _smirk_ on his face was the kind of image Prompto would barely have dared to fantasize over, some five or so years previous. He knew he was _close_ , and had no idea what would follow on from that. "Uh _nn_ \--... _Noct_ \--... I can't--... much longer--..."

Noctis made a sound that could have been acknowledgement of that fact, but little else. Steadying himself against Prompto's body, he jerked his hips in a manner honed in their teenage years, in a way that still seemed - evidently - effective. There was still part of Prompto that felt like perhaps he should hold back - _maybe we should stop this?_ \- but Noctis seemed focused, now.

"Is it--... is it okay--...?"

"Hm?"

"I'm gonna--... _mm_ \--... can't--... stop--..."

"Oh?" Noctis halted himself perfectly, hands pressed to Prompto's chest. "You think we should stop?"

That thought, suddenly, felt like the most unbearable thing in the world. "N-no--...!"

Bringing one wrist up to cover his eyes, Prompto wasn't sure if he was embarrassed or ashamed - _maybe a mix of both_. This sensation was made worse by Noctis reaching down to move that wrist, fixing him with a glare. "Could you--... _please_ \--... just--... decide that you want something... and go for it? Offering yourself up like that... _nn_ \--... like you can just--... like you can just take it, and smile, and walk away--... what am I meant to do!?" Noctis took both of Prompto's wrists then, holding him down and shifting against him slowly, in a way that could almost have been sensual were it not for _everything else_. "What am I meant to _do_ , Prompto--?!"

"I don't--... I don't know--!"

Noctis bowed his head once more, hand back to his now-present erection, stroking it roughly (and in stark contrast to the way he was moving against Prompto). He had no response, no answer to his own question; his breath was hitching, shaking gasps communicating his desperation. He couldn't keep to that slow rhythm, suddenly taken by his own desires; his other hand moved to Prompto's shoulder, clenching against it without reservation.

"Just--... just fucking _come_ already--..."

From the frantic movement of his hand, it was unclear as to whether Noctis meant that directed towards himself or to Prompto, but Prompto himself was beyond being able to consider such things. Those frustrated words were sort of like a command, and that was as much as his body needed; the permission he'd looked for had been lost somewhere along the way, but that was--... _enough_. It was enough. His climax was hard and sudden, buried deep within Noctis and with his palms pressed against the cabin floor.

Prompto's mind still felt scrambled as Noctis stepped up and away from him; still taking deep breaths, he was aware of his tanktop pulled up and the spatter of semen against his torso; he wiped at it with his wrist before tugging his tanktop down to cover himself, seeing no better alternative in his current position. Noctis had gone back to sit on the bed opposite, pulling his underwear and trousers back up around him.

"Um--..."

Noctis didn't reply to that, but he did look towards Prompto on hearing that sound; his expression was something between questioning and troubled. Prompto realized that he hadn't actually had anything in mind to say, not in that moment; instead, he rearranged his clothes and picked himself up from the floor. He couldn't shake the thought from his head, _did that help?... No. No, of course it didn't_.

"--... I--... I guess I should go tell the others where we are... right?"

"... Yeah. If they haven't worked it out already."

"They didn't knock. We got away with it." Prompto laughed, but weakly. He made his way to the door, pulling the latch, but not making to open it. "Uh--... if--... if there's anything you want, though, um--... just--... ask me, right? If there's anything you think might help. ...Or not help. Or whatever. Just whatever. Yeah?"

He looked back towards Noctis, but he had already rolled over to face the compartment wall, and gave no other reaction in response.

 

\-----

 

"... I don't know what's going through his head. If he thinks we've got time to rest--..."

"It may not be a bad idea, Gladio. We're all--... quite tired, I think. Do you think we're in the best shape to face the dangers of an unknown continent like this...?"

Gladiolus sighed. "I guess not. Sure, okay. Guess it's time for some shuteye."

Prompto walked a few steps ahead of the other two, vaguely leading them towards the sleeper carriages. Being the first to approach the closed door, he knocked against it three times. "Noct--! It's us." (There was no reply, but Prompto wasn't expecting one.) He made to open the door--...

"Guess _someone_ fancies a room of their own tonight." Stretching his arms up, Gladiolus went to the next-door cabin. "Nobody's using this one, right?"

"I--... I guess..." He tried the door again, _just in case_ \--

"C'mon, Prompto. If that's what he's gonna be like, then what else are we gonna do? I could break the door down, but I feel like those guys in uniform might not like that."

"We could do without having to provide such compensation. Is this where we're sleeping?"

"Oh, uh--... y-yeah." Gladiolus held the door open, watching Ignis intently. "Just in here." He looked back over to where Prompto still stood. "If you stand there much longer, I'll lock you out, too."

Prompto remained in place for a moment longer, touching against the door _as if that would--... but no_. Sighing deeply, he followed on after Gladiolus, ducking under his arm as the door was held, and then closed behind them.


End file.
